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Updated: June 20, 2025
"Yes, I don't more'n 'arf like it," returned the Cap'n uneasily. "My nerves arn't quite what they was. An' a fog's a thing as I never could abide." On glided the Saucy Sally, almost the only one on the great water way which spoke not, in the midst of a babel of confusing sounds.
"Well, captain of ill-luck," said Pen, whose unreasonable fury grew stronger at every word; "you wanted to come here, and here you'll stay." "But how are we to nap him?" said Plover. "We've a good opportunity," replied Clifton; "the commander isn't on deck, the lieutenant is asleep in his cabin, and the fog's thick enough to stop Johnson seeing us." "But where's the dog?" cried Pen.
The fog's going, and there's a breeze from the sou'-west. 'Now? I protested. 'Why, it'll mean sailing all night, won't it? 'Oh, no, said Davies. 'Not with luck. 'Why, it's dark at seven! 'Yes, but it's only twenty-five miles. I know it's not exactly a fair wind, but we shall lie closehauled most of the way. The glass is falling, and we ought to take this chance.
As he had read pessimism into Omar, so now he read triumph, stinging triumph and exultation, into Swinburne's lines. And he read rightly, and he read well. He had hardly ceased reading when Louis put his head into the companion-way and whispered down: "Be easy, will ye? The fog's lifted, an' 'tis the port light iv a steamer that's crossin' our bow this blessed minute."
Klein was generally known as the general's cousin, which doubtless saved her and her family from molestation, too common on the part of our men. One day, as I was riding the line near a farm known as Parson Fog's, I heard that the family of a Mr. Wilkinson, of New Orleans, was "refugeeing" at a house near by.
"I pretended to laugh, sir," said he, "but it's not quite laughing now. The fog's coming over, and we're just going into cloud after cloud of it. Don't let either of the ladies peep up again on any account. I'm afeared o' nothing but collision, but it's regular blind man's holiday when one o' them comes down."
"I don't believe he knows what vessel he's on yet," declared Harry. "He asked me and I gave him an evasive reply." "Fog's lifting, Captain," announced Tom who was at the wheel. "Sure enough, it is," joyfully cried Jack. "Now maybe we can get a bearing and know where we are. Do you see land anywhere?" "I see smoke," declared Harry. "What does a sailor say when he sees a smoke?
'Still the fog's our best friend, he continued, 'and we have plenty of time before us. If we average no more than half-speed we should be clear before daylight. For another twenty minutes they carried on at full speed through the choking smother, then Captain Carrington rang to reduce speed. 'We're off Gallipoli now, he said.
He was wearing his long Inverness cloak, and his queer old high hat lay on the table, ready for him to put on. "You're never going out this afternoon, sir?" she asked falteringly. "Why, the fog's awful; you can't see a yard ahead of you!" Unknown to herself, Mrs. Bunting's voice had risen almost to a scream.
'Looking for my property. 'Take it, and begone! 'I will, to-morrow. All this apart, and with the rapidity of lightning. 'His name is Jarvis, father, and we must keep him with us, said Silver. 'Yes, dear, as long as he wishes to stay; but no doubt he has home and friends waiting for him. They went within, Silver leading the way. Old Fog's eyes gleamed and his hands were clinched.
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